The Decay was in a good mood.

He went around his room humming, putting away the things that he’d gained on his expedition with Bad_Luck. The HP potions at his belt clinked as he unhooked them one by one, arranging them along the wall.

He’d restocked on HP potions, he’d teamed up with a Chosen One, and he’d gotten away with disobeying the Creator’s orders. For his first dungeon dive, it was a rather good outcome.

Admittedly, he’d made a few spur of the moment decisions that made him doubt the success of his mission. Likely too many.

Yet no matter how much he’d blundered, Luck had still shrugged off all suspicions and accepted his company. They’d fought alongside each other, hunted mobs, and killed bosses. Just like a normal team.

It was nice, being able to speak normally with someone other than his sister. Usually, the other NPCs avoided him like the plague, while the Chosen Ones glared at him with the same regard reserved for pests.

Not that he blamed them. After all, he was wicked in nature, just as the Creator had always intended him to be. He was spiteful, and manipulative, and quite simply, evil. Everyone, from the Creator, to the NPCs, to the Chosen Ones, had all agreed it was so. No matter how much he’d tried to change for the better, that opinion had stayed the same always. He’d discovered that it was likely just an unchangeable part of him, and so he’d learned to accept it.

He’d had such an enjoyable, normal time that he’d wanted to give Luck a farewell gift before they parted. Thus, he’d gone against the Creator’s commands about not troubling the other bosses and quickly dispatched Samhain.

With Luck disconnected during server maintenance, there hadn’t been any need to suppress his actual Level. He’d killed Samhain in one hit, and taken her Stain of Autumn Gold.

She would likely resent him for that after she respawned. Then again, she’d always hated him anyway. One more grudge hardly mattered.

All things considered, it was an alright end to the bet between him and Rosa.

“You try getting along with a Chosen One,” he mimicked his sister’s words as he placed the last HP potion on a metal stand. “I guarantee you’ll want to tear their eyes out before you even get to the boss.”

Staring out the window, he could see the distant figure of the Great Oak in the distance.

“Well I did. Your turn, sis. Won’t stir up trouble with Father anymore, will you?” he grinned at the figure, rehearsing the words he’d say to Rosa when he saw her next. “Won’t risk a factory reset for something silly again? You promised, after a—”

“Who are you talking to, asshole?” a low growl came from behind him, shattering his jovial mood in an instant. A sharp prick jabbed into his back, not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to feel the point of the blade through his shirt.

He didn’t have to look to recognise the voice.

Adam.

He slowly raised his hands in front of him.

“Don’t try anything funny!” the prick blossomed into a burning wave that raked up his back. His HP began to plummet at an alarming rate.

Iron.

He froze, and the pressure at his back lessened. He chanced a glance backwards.

Holding an iron rapier to his back was the Chosen One named Pam, and walking towards him, closer to the door, was Adam.

He hadn’t heard either of them come in.

“Have you used up your Overpower limit today, Adam?” Pam asked.

“Yeah,” he heard Adam reply. “Lost my patience and used it on the blacksmith’s brat.”

“Why’d you use it on something so stupid?”

“She was annoying, okay? Wouldn’t stop talking.”

“Oh honestly. You can deal with a little kid’s nagging. I don’t want to use mine on this guy.”

“Well—” the pressure on his back lessened for a second.

The Decay knew he stood no chance, but it didn’t hurt to try anyway.

He ducked forwards, slipping out of reach of Pam’s sword. As he fell, he reached for his shadow skill. The skill responded, a sense of warmth rising up from his chest into the rest of his body. There came a shout from behind him as the Chosen Ones noticed the change.

His limbs began to disintegrate, turning into writhing black smoke. Pam reached forwards and swiped at his torso. As black mist, he slipped through her fingers. Before he could phase through the walls of the Fortress and escape, however, a violent jerk at his being pulled him back to corporeality.

“Overpower.”

The moment Pam spoke that word, a crushing weight crashed down upon him, forcing him to his knees. The smoke dissipated and he crumpled over. The skill puppeteered his limbs into a kowtow, forcing him to bow before the two Chosen Ones.

Pam walked over casually, not at all in a hurry to get to him.

“Awaiting input command,” the words forced themselves out of his throat. They sounded hollow and robotic, and not at all like himself. “NPC System Overpower chances remaining: 1.”

Pam grinned, pointing her rapier at him.

“Toggle off all skills for…”

She turned back to Adam.

“How long?”

“An hour should be plenty.”

“Toggle off all skills for one hour.”

“Command received.”

As if a blindfold had been wrapped over his eyes, his powers were plunged into darkness. He instinctively grasped out for them despite knowing that he would find nothing. His skills, once as natural to him as another limb, were no longer there.

They hadn’t ordered him not to run, and the window was only a small distance away. But he knew better than to try. Running had never ended well for him anyway.

“You know the drill,” snarled Adam, grasping his fingers together and pulling. Out of thin air came a cloth bag, one that the Decay recognised. “Get us out of here.”

“…” he sighed, and braced himself.

“Wrong answer,” Adam reached into the bag and threw a handful of salt at him.

Immediately, he felt that familiar burn scorch across his skin, each grain feeling more like blades than granules. He gritted his teeth.

“Ow! That actually smarts,” Adam flapped his hand back and forth in the air and gasped. “Damn pain update.”

“Give it here,” Pam took the bag from Adam’s flailing fingers. “I’m immune to fairy deterrents, remember?”

“Fine,” Adam scowled and bent down in front of him. “You’d better talk.”

The Decay said nothing.

“This isn’t a question. Get us out of here. Send us back home.”

The Decay kept his silence. He knew from countless such interrogations that it didn’t matter what he answered. If he said no, he would get a beating. If he said yes, he would be questioned till he admitted that he actually didn’t know how to, and would get a beating. There was no point.

“Quiet again today?” Pam strode forwards and kicked him in the gut, sending him falling backwards. “Stop hiding it. We know you’re the one who brought us here.”

He wasn’t. He had to partake in the fights that separated the Chosen Ones from the normal players, yes. The Creator had always dropped the new Chosen Ones in his room, yes. He knew more than they did, yes.

But if it were up to him, he wouldn’t bring anyone here at all.

“…”

“Talk, fucker!” Pam pulled out her rapier and jabbed down, sending more burns blooming down his chest.

“…”

“Always pulling the silent treatment with us… You think we’ll just give up?” Down came the rapier again and again. “We know you’re hiding something!”

“I’m not…”

“Don’t deny it!” A boot connected with his chin and kicked him across the floor. Staring up at the ceiling, he made no attempt to get up.

His hearing grew blurry as the two Chosen Ones peppered him with attacks, shouting accusations and demanding answers that he didn’t have. Their voices were distant, as if he were hearing it through a bubble.

“Michael found it!” Adam’s dour face came scowling into view, before another jab of pain appeared at his ribs. “And you killed him for it!”

His eyes widened.

Michael…

From the depths of his memory, something resurfaced.

“Michael! What brings you here? … No, no. We were just having a… little chat with the Decay. Nothing you should be worried about. We’ll join you shortly.”

“Heartless piece of shit!”

“Don’t worry, Michael… No, it’s just some stuff we had to take care of. Just the Decay again. Not that important… You saw something? Cool! Let’s go!”

“Of everyone you could have messed up, you just had to mess with the kid!”

“I still can’t believe I can walk on my own two feet again.”

“Wanna try out how fast you can go? I’ll race you. But… after I finish up with the Decay first. Do you mind waiting outside?”

“He…”

“Michael.”

He heard himself say.

“You’re the only one I can trust with this secret.”

“If you beat Oberon at a duel and tell him the password,”

“He will have no choice but to send everyone home.”

“Something to say about Michael?” Pam yanked him up by the collar and stared, her eyes dark and stormy.

“I…”

“Tell him…”

His resolve broke.

“Wake up.”

…

That’s right.

At the end of the day, he’d brought this upon himself, hadn’t he?

“I’m sorry,” He choked. “I’m sorry.”

“You’d better be,” Pam tossed him to the floor in disgust.

He barely registered as they rubbed more salt in his face. He didn’t respond to Pam stabbing him over and over again with her iron rapier. He hardly noticed as his HP began to drop below the halfway point.

It was only when someone barged into the room that he realised he had been screaming.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

The beatings ceased. He raised his eyes blurrily to see a figure standing by Pam, tightly gripping her sword arm.

It was Luck, but… his demeanor was different.

His body posture was tense, rather than laid back. His voice sounded off. His large glasses reflected the light, to the point that the Decay couldn’t see his expression.

What he did see however, was that his childish grin, that had seemed permanently stuck to his face, was now gone.

“What the fuck…” Luck repeated, his usually playful voice oddly serious.

“I rush in here wondering whether you need help and I arrive to see this,” Luck gestured at him. “Both of you ganging up on a poor kid.”

“Even if he looks like one, he’s not a ‘poor kid’. He’s the Decay,” hissed Pam. “He’s the one who trapped us here.”

“And who told you that? Marge?” Luck retorted.

“You’re new here, Luck,” said Adam. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“What am I not understanding? All I see is a one sided slugfest—“

The Decay listened to them argue, lying forgotten on the floor. Now would be the opportune moment to run, but he no longer had the will to. The shame kept him curled up right where he had been left.

***

I was pissed. I’d been hit with multiple revelations at once, none of which I liked.

Rue was actually the Decay. The Decay was in cahoots with Rosa. And Pam and Adam were both beating the shit out of someone who was clearly not fighting back. No matter whether Rue was the Rue I knew or a just friendly mask worn by the Decay, the last revelation did not sit right with me.

Pam and Adam didn’t seem to agree though. They just kept finding different ways to justify beating up a guy in his own home, no matter what I said.

Rue was lying curled up on the ground at our feet, not moving an inch. His silver Decay mask was nowhere to be seen, leaving his identity displayed before me. Despite the beating he’d taken, there wasn’t a single wound to be found on him. But from what I saw and heard, I knew better than to assume that he was fine.

“This guy is the one who trapped us here,” Pam argued. “He admitted it himself. He resented us for sealing him away at the end of story mode, so he brought us here to rot in this world with him!”

“That is the most absurd revenge story I’ve heard,” I scowled. “And do you really think that torture is a good method of getting information? He could have just said anything to get you to stop beating him up.”

“So? He deserves it anyway, for what he did,” before I could stop him, Adam aimed another kick at Rue.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Luck, everyone. Calm down,” a hand clamped down on my shoulder. “Let’s not fight.”

Trix had entered the room behind me. Looking over, his face was strangely apathetic. Uncannily so.

“How am I supposed to stay calm when I walk in on something like this?” I whirled around to face Trix. “Don’t tell me you approve of this behaviour.”

“He’s just an NPC, Luck,” Trix said, crinkling up his nose. With how hollowly he delivered that line, you would have thought he was saying “it’s just a roach” instead. “It’s not worth causing a fuss because of him. Let them be.”

“Just an NPC?” I felt myself heating up from the bubbling rage in my gut. “I partied up with him. We cleared a dungeon together. I may not have known him for long, but I know he’s an actual person. Him being an NPC does not justify what Pam and Adam did.”

“That is a dangerous assumption to make,” Trix said.

“Never knew that being a decent person was a dangerous assumption.”

“I meant the assumption that NPCs can be more than what they are— puppets carrying out the bidding of this world’s creator,” Trix drew himself up to full height, towering high above me. “I understand your concern. You feel pity for the Decay. But that sort of trust and empathy is what gets people killed.”

“And so we should go around beating up everyone we don’t like?”

“That wasn’t even what we were doing,” Pam interjected. “We were making a statement.”

“By beating someone up.”

“It’s called justice.”

“If this is what you think justice means, I think you need to go back to school.”

“Okay that’s it! Luck, mind your own fucking business.”

“Now that’s just—”

“Enough!” Trix thundered. “All of you!”

I glared at Adam and Pam. They glared back, seemingly with the same degree of animosity they’d used on Rue.

Trix sighed.

“Let’s all calm down for a moment. Pam, Adam, you’re done here.”

“But Trix—”

“I said you’re done here!”

“Let’s go, Adam,” Pam held Adam back and led him towards the door, her voice laced with bitterness. “Let Trix handle it. He feels it worse than we do.”

Trix watched them go, his face remaining expressionless. He then turned to me.

“Luck, let’s talk over there.”

“I think it’s about time you heard our side of the story.”